


you too?;

by bloodynargles



Series: cryogenics au [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, cryogenics au, no fighting but, probs some triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodynargles/pseuds/bloodynargles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only one with half a hand in being a soldier was Maine, and look where that got him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you too?;

**Author's Note:**

> another part of the cryogenics au, callie? yes. yees.

She was sick of this, sick of the emotional torture he used to get information out of her, sick of having to clean her wounds every time he got impatient - sick of how he treated her like a toy, like one of the trophies he hangs on the wall. Wincing when she pressed the cotton soaked in antiseptic against the cut, the sting bringing her back to earth, or wherever the hell they were. Those stupid mercs had gotten out quick, teleporting themselves out of there right in front of the reds and blues - she liked lying, but pretending freelancer didn't shape her into someone who fought for the truth was hard. Although, she'd like to see Locus' face when she buries her knife in the back of his neck. If she ever got that far.

 

Probably won't, should let Washington have the killing blow, but she's pretty sure that would make Locus happy, or at least something akin to it in his insane mind. 'A real soldier', she'd call bullshit to that. Freelancers were barely just marines, they still had the trust of a rookie, the naivety - their fighting skills were up to scratch, she'd give that to them. The only one with half a hand in being a soldier was Maine, and look where that got him.

 

A heavy set of footsteps pulls her out of her thoughts as she runs her finger across the tip of one of her throwing knives, her head turning slightly as if to nod to the other, but not looking at them at all. There's a grunt she half recognizes, and the knife is flung into the wall as a memory flashed through her mind, the tip of the blade sticking in the material sandwiched with the metal between. Its painful and she wants to scream as the people she used to know yelled at her from memories she prefered to keep hidden away. She didn't care if whoever that had been there still was, or what they thought was going on - she really, really, didn't fucking _care_.

 

There's another grunt and she spins around with fire in her eyes, ready to tear them apart, but she stops short, the person in front of her stunning her to a silence.

 

"Yeah, me too."

**Author's Note:**

> this is me introducing this version of arie. the one who lied to survive, and became the chairman's living trophy. she walked with the mercs and lied about freelancer ever meaning anything to her, lied about knowing the people that got themselves so dangerously miscommunicated - who's to say she isn't one of them? full of trust and still a rookie at heart. then again, who isn't a rookie at heart? that is if you still have one.  
> -  
> the grunts translate into: "arizona?" "you too?"


End file.
